


Conquering Mount Cullen

by Cantique



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 11:05:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2770742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantique/pseuds/Cantique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor is a little tightly wound, so Dorian helps her let her hair down with the help of red wine and gossip.  FEM!Trevelyan/Cullen. Minor spoilers but nothing earth-shattering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conquering Mount Cullen

**Author's Note:**

> Transferred from fanfiction.net. Will write more oneshots in a collection soon. Wow. Such game. Many ship.

The Inquisitor was exhausted, and it showed. Her lips were chapped from the wind and heat of their Western mission, her skin had burned under the sun and her nails were chipped away to almost nothing. Lady Trevelyn she might have been in name, but definitely not appearance. She was just glad that the bags under her eyes hadn't been so apparent when she'd met Empress Celene, lest the Orlesian nobility have one more thing to add to their list of things apparently wrong or unsightly about her.

They had, apparently, been more than apparent to Dorian, and on his insistence, the Inquisitor had now found herself in the Skyhold tavern, nursing a deeply appreciated wine that he had recommended. She wasn't sure _exactly_  what kind of wine, something about southern grapes and the chantry, she hadn't really been listening – but it tasted sweet and became more and more what she'd needed with every sip.

"Thank you," she eventually sighed, having realised she'd already downed more than half of the glass. "I haven't had a chance to actually sit down and enjoy a drink since… before the war…"

"No war talk," her fellow Mage snapped, reaching out to the bottle and topping her glass up. "Talk of the war is banned at this table as of right now. Charming and handsome company such as myself should never be wasted on such discussions." He winked as he said this, causing her to snort mid-sip – she was definitely  _far_  from a lady.

"I think your charming and handsome company is sadly wasted on a lot of misunderstanding women," the Inquisitor coyly replied as she set her glass back down.

Dorian smirked and crossed his arms, leaning back into his chair. "I didn't know you felt that way," he teased. "You're missing some of my favourite parts, but I  _suppose_  I could make do, lie back and think of the Inquisition, all of that." He paused, quickly glancing around to make sure they weren't about to have any visitors. "Speaking of which," Dorian leant in, his elbows on the table, grinning ear to ear, "congratulations on conquering Mt Cullen, Inquisitor."

The Inquisitor nearly spat her drink, throwing her hand over her mouth. "What?" She coughed, wiping her mouth. "Dorian, where would you get such an-"

"Did you really think no one would notice?" He asked, sitting back up, somewhat proud of himself. "I mean, I'm sure it's entirely lost on  _Cassandra,_ the woman couldn't pick up a flirtatious glance if it painted itself purple, danced upon a harpsichord and sang 'flirtatious glances are here again.'"

Running her hand through her hair – which she had let down for the occasion and was now immensely regretting – the Inquisitor exhaled, shaking her head. "How long have you known, then?"

"A while, now," he conceded. "Before we went to that blasted ball you brushed hands at the war table." He paused. "Intentionally." Dorian took a quick sip of his drink, eyes cast downwards, a softer smile behind the glass until he was ready to speak again. "I was actually half terrified you'd do something similar at the ball before the court decided to become so infatuated with you, to be honest. If  _I_  noticed that, you can bet they would have."

She groaned, her fingers moving to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I asked him to dance, actually."

"Well," he laughed, raising his eyebrows, "so much for that, then. Actually," he tilted his glass towards her, "to be frank, I'm a little hurt that you didn't tell me right away," he gave her another cheeky smile. "I mean, I thought we had a special bond, you and I. That kind of thing is priority information."

"I'm sorry, I just..." she shrugged. "We were hoping to keep it... our business. We play such important roles, and it's a..." she paused, thinking of the right word. "Distraction."

"A welcome one!" He laughed. "Do you think I'd be locking myself up with those books in that tower if I knew you had  _Cullen_  stories to tell me?" Dorian gave his trademark smirk. "I'd slam that man like a trap door in a storm if the chance presented itself."

" _Dorian!_ " She almost squealed, finding this both shocking and hilarious.

"Come on," he began, his voice low again, a grin on his face. "Tell me everything. When did it start? Did he find himself overcome by desire when he saw the way you can devour a pie?"

She rolled her eyes, tracing her fingers around the lip of her glass, already feeling the wine in her system. It  _had_  been a very long time since she'd been able to indulge, after all. "As sensual I'm sure I am when I'm half starved, it wasn't that exciting." A gentle smile appeared at the corners of her lips, warmth throughout it. "We just talked. Cullen's... he's..."

"Like a knight in shining armour?" Dorian offered. "All chivalrous and gentlemanly?"

"Yes," she agreed. "Although... he gets flustered. Easily."

"Flustered, you say?" He asked. "Oh,  _Inquisitor,_  you  _temptress!_ " He laughed, finding this so funny it warranted him throwing his head back. "Praying on the poor innocent commander like an alley cat on a mouse!"

She crossed her arms as she watched him laugh himself into full, heaving belly-chuckles. She wasn't quite sure  _why_  he found that so funny, it wasn't like she was a virginal wallflower or anything – her conversations with Varric should have been enough to prove the contrary on that. "I will have you know that he-" she cut herself off. Oh no. Her mouth was talking before her brain approved of anything. She'd barely even  _had_  two glasses yet...

"Have me know what?" Dorian asked, suddenly coming back to attention. "...Oh come on, you can't say  _that_  and leave it!" He eyed her expectantly as he topped up her glass again. "You can't pretend you haven't been dying to tell  _someone,_  after all."

"...Well," she finally relented after a long pause, "he's... strong."

"Strong?"

She gave a shy smile, her face already turning a little red – if it was from embarrassment or the wine, she wasn't sure. "He can pick me up quite easily."

Dorian grinned once more, leaning down on to the table again and giving an eager wiggle. " _Do_  go on..." he paused, glancing to the wine bottle. "We have plenty of wine to get through"

* * *

"I see," Josephine agreed, giving a nod as she read over Leliana's report on the nobility who had asked for the Inquisition's help. This meeting of the war council was measuring to be a short one, although Josephine felt this could be attributed to the Inquisitor's unusually short and blunt replies to most questions today. Her mood was, not surprisingly, shared by Dorian, who she'd caught drifting off a few times through the process of the meet. "What do you think, Inquisitor? The Geroux family could offer some very substantial financial assistance to the cause if we were to secure an alliance."

"Go for it," she replied, rubbing her eyes and giving a long yawn. Josephine wondered if she'd even been  _listening,_  but she also felt it would be pointless addressing the fact that she was obviously unwell from her big evening with Dorian, even though she  _desperately_  wanted to. Petty, perhaps, but desired.

"It is settled, then," Josephine agreed, reaching out for her piece on the board. "I will petition the nobles of-"

Suddenly, Sera cleared her throat, which was enough to grab the entire council's attention. Sera barely spoke in council meetings, let alone paid any attention whatsoever – this was a shock. "I wouldn't touch that if I were you," she warned, stifling a laugh.

"What?" Josephine asked. "Why?"

"Oh, you know..." Sera was grinning ear to ear. This was  _never_  good. "You don't know where that's been." Sera watched the expressions in the room as everyone looked to her for explanation. "The pieces. The map. I mean, the whole  _table_!" The elf was biting her lip by now to withhold laughter.

Suddenly, the Inquisitor piped up, paying full attention for the first time since the meeting had began. "Sera," she warned, her voice suddenly the same they'd all heard in times of danger.

" _What?_ " She giggled. "I'm just saying that-"

"Don't you  _dare._ "

Cassandra gave a loud groan, clearly impatient with the course of the conversation. "What is all this about?" The Seeker demanded. "If it does not contribute to the matter at hand, I fail to see why the state of the war table-"

" _Theyhadsexonit!"_  Sera suddenly squealed, unable to hold it in anymore before practically collapsing in giggles and snorts. " _Onthetableinnitjusthilarious_ WHAT DID THEY DO WITH THE PIECES?!" It was all the Inquisitor could do to not push past Bull, who had  _conveniently_  and casually stepped between the two, and shove a handful of requisition papers down her throat. "CAN YOU JUST IMAGINE HIS BUTT RIGHT NEXT TO THE FREE MARCHES?!"

"I... we... Sera... I... how..." Cullen was attempting to speak, but was unable to get them in quite the right order, whilst Josephine immediately removed her hands from the table, a quiet ' _Andraste'_  escaping her.

Varric, on the other hand, joined Sera in the laugher, although his seemed more a laughter of pride than anything. "That's  _one_  way to dominate a map." At this, Bull gave an audible snort. That made  _three_  people laughing in the war room.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Cassandra shouted over the top of the others, an eyebrow raising in disgust when she realised she'd been leaning down on to the table the entire time.

The Inquisitor glanced to Leliana, her first suspicions being with the Spymaster. Dorian wouldn't have said anything. He hadn't had  _time –_ he'd only gotten out of bed to go to the meeting. Leliana, however, instead of admitting to anything, scrunched up her nose. "On the war table?" She asked. "You could not wait until you were in your quarters?"

"Hey," Bull interjected, "sometimes you just gotta grab it by the horns-"

"Don't you  _dare_  make that joke again, Bull," the Inquisitor warned, only serving to send the trio into another spill of laughter.

At this point, Cullen was so red that he looked like a ripe tomato. "C-can we... this is... inappropriate..."

"I... but how did she find out?" the Inquisitor asked, gesturing to Sera, who was now all but leaning on Bull to remain standing. She looked to Dorian, who merely shook his head, wide-eyed.

"You were in the Tavern last night, were you not?" Leliana asked. The Inquisitor noticed that even her spymaster was trying to hide a smile, which only served to further infuriate her. "I am not the only one in Skyhold who makes use of the ears around her," with that, Leliana glanced to the now crying Sera, who had now taken humour in how red Cullen had turned.

"So what you're telling me," Cassandra began, glancing between the horrifically embarrassed commander in the furious Inquisitor, "that... you two..."

"Maker," Dorian laughed. "You really  _are_  oblivious."

 


End file.
